


Shawn Can't Believe It's Not ...Murder

by Strangevisitor7



Category: Highlander: The Series, Psych
Genre: Crossover, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-13
Updated: 2010-02-12
Packaged: 2017-10-07 05:20:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/61813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Strangevisitor7/pseuds/Strangevisitor7
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lassiter is an  Immortal and an old friend of Methos (Adam Pierson). When Methos allows a challenge to attract unwanted attention Lassiter helps him cover it up. Unfortunately, Shawn and Gus aren't buying Lassiter's explanation of events</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Methos sat on the wooden park bench, eyes closed, feeling the warmth of the sun on his face and listening to the sound of the waves lapping against the beach. He let out a sigh of contentment. There were far too few of these peaceful moments in his long life.

When he felt the buzz of another Immortal, he opened his eyes to glance down the beach, confirming that the presence he felt was an acquaintance – no, he was more than that. They'd known each other long enough that Methos really did consider the man a friend even if Carl considered Methos a nuisance. He had to chuckle; the man was still wound too tight even after all these years.

Lassiter collapsed on the bench next to him and the two sat staring out at the water, mesmerized by the rhythmic pounding.

"Now, you owe me," Carlton said, finally breaking the silence.

"I know," Methos replied.

"The evidence is gone and no one will even remember you were there."

"I tried to explain to the idiot that I was on vacation and not in the mood to fight him, but – " Methos shrugged.

"The young ones are still foolish," Lassiter agreed. "That never changes."

"Thanks for, you know," Methos waved a hand in front of him, "everything."

"Anytime." He tilted his head to glance at Methos. "Actually, next time we see each other could it not be in the middle of a crisis?"

"One can always hope."

The two men lapsed into silence again, staring out across the ocean.

Methos wasn't usually this sloppy and he hated owing favors; it was much better when the favors were owed to him. That idiot Immortal, whose name he'd already forgotten, had been a most irritating opponent; he hadn't been that good either. Then the police had arrived before he'd had a chance to dispose of the body and Methos was sure he'd be arrested. He really hated when that happened as he wasn't well suited for prison life and escaping was always such a chore.

He'd never been more grateful to see another of their kind; especially one who wouldn't be following up the first botched challenge with another. Lassiter had taken charge of the investigation and, to his credit, had only griped about cleaning up after Methos briefly as he was shooing the other Immortal away from the crime scene.

"You'll be leaving now." Carlton shifted on the bench to face him; it wasn't a question.

Methos smiled. "I've always hated California."

Nodding Lassiter stood and started to leave before turning back. "It's nice to catch up every decade or so."

"Becoming emotional in your old age, Carl," Methos teased. "I might even think you've missed me."

Lassiter shook his head. "Yeah, like I miss the Spanish Inquisition."

Methos chuckled. It did seem that they always ran into each other when things were going sideways. "Well, no one expects the Span – "

Lassiter held up a hand as he fought back the grin which tugged at the corners of his mouth. "When you're around, I do," he quipped, letting a real smile finally break through. "Listen, take care of yourself. I hate to think what you do when I'm not around to watch your back."

"I manage."

"That you do." Lassiter nodded his farewell and walked back down the beach.

Methos sighed, knowing he'd have to leave town soon, but wanting to savor the peacefulness of the ocean for just a little while longer. He tilted his head back to once again catch the warmth of the sun on his face. Smiling, he wondered if MacLeod was still in Paris.


	2. Chapter 2

"Shawn, why are we following Detective Lassiter?" Gus asked as they ducked behind a car in the parking lot.

"Because something wasn't right about that dead body in the alley." Shawn moved to crouch behind another car to get a better view of Lassiter. "I have to know why Lassie lied."

"I thought that case was ruled an accident." Gus peered over the hood of the red Ford Explorer to see Lassiter join a dark haired guy on a bench facing the ocean.

Shawn gave Gus one of his patented, _how-stupid-can- you-be-looks_. "Really, Gus? Really? You buy that a guy can accidentally decapitate himself."

"But Lassiter said – "

"All the evidence was lost or contaminated. Lassie's too good a cop to let that happen without a reason."

"Did you just compliment your nemesis?"

"What, you don't think I can do compliments?" He waved off Gus' attempt to retort. "You really think Lassie's my nemesis because our superhero alter egos, Psych-Man and MagicHead, need a good nemesis.

"No we don't – they don't– They aren't real, Shawn."

"Maybe we should give Lassie a cool supervillain name like Tightly-Wound Man or Tall Man – no that's no good. How about - "

"Shawn, focus! What's all this got to do with watching him talk to some guy at the beach?"

Shawn stared at the two men as he answered, "It was just Lassie's word about what happened yesterday and it doesn't add up."

Gus frowned. "It made sense the way he explained it."

Shawn gave him a patronizing smile. "Of course it does – to you and to everyone else, but Pysch-Man knows better." Shawn's voice dipped into announcer tone as he spoke his superhero name.

"I'm so sorry I ever called him your nemesis," Gus mumbled.

"Lassie's been acting weird – weirder than normal," Shawn was quick to clarify.

Eyes narrowing, Gus stared at his friend. "You're not suggesting that Lassiter killed that guy in the alley?"

Shawn scoffed. "Lassie would never use a sword to kill a guy, he loves his gun too much, but I'm thinking he knows who did."

Then he took off, doing a ridiculously faux stealthy move to get closer to the pair on the bench. Shawn thought his zigzagging had real flair. He was happy to see that Gus had followed his erratic pattern precisely.

Shawn's eyes narrowed as he studied the mysterious stranger seated next to the detective.

"Anything strike you as odd about Lassie's friend?"

"Besides that fact that he has a friend, no," Gus replied.

"The guy is wearing a long raincoat on a sunny day and the temperature is in the 80's."

"Maybe he's cold."

Shawn rolled his eyes at Gus and went back to studying the pair without answering.

"Fine, Shawn, the guy's dressed wrong, but you still haven't explained why we're following Lassiter around."

"I'm thinking our nemesis, Mr. Cranky Pants…Gun Boy– Help me out here, Gus, I can't come up with a good name for Lassie's alter ego."

Gus just stared at Shawn refusing to play along. "So, no help on the nickname then," Shawn said before a smile lit up his face. "It is possible that Bulletina is really a henchman for that guy; he's the real villain of the piece."

"Bulletina?"

"Sure, he likes to shoot his gun and he's a big girl," Shawn explained with a shrug.

Gus nodded his approval of the nickname.

They watched as Lassiter stood and continued to talk with the mysterious stranger before heading down the beach away form them.

"Did Lassiter just smile – I mean really smile?" Gus asked.

"He did, and now I think I may need a bath."

"You don't think they could actually be friends and Lassiter is covering up a murder for him?"

"You know what they say Gus; an old friend will help you move. A good friend will help you move a dead body."

"Been there done that," Gus quipped.

"There's only one way to find out what kind of friend that guy is to Lassie." Shawn stood and began moving toward the bench only to have Gus pull him back down.

"I don't think that's a good idea, Shawn. You just said you think he could be a killer."

Shawn shrugged off Gus' grip. "Even if he is, he isn't going to kill us on a busy beach in front of witnesses," Shawn assured him and took off toward the stranger.

"That's not very comforting, Shawn," Gus hissed out as he caught up with his friend.

They walked side by side toward their target. "And that is why you should never poke a badger with a spoon," Shawn said with a flourish as he plopped down on the bench next to Lassie's mysterious friend.

Gus joined him. "I'm glad you explained that."

Shawn looked over at the man, who was doing his best to ignore them, and smiled. "You know, it almost never rains in Santa Barbara."

"Excuse me?" The man quirked an eyebrow at him.

"The rain coat." Shawn gestured at the man's apparel. "Don't really need one of those today."

"Do I know you?"

"Shawn Spencer," he held out his hand, "and this is my friend, Oswald Chesterfield Cobblepot."

The man hesitated as he looked them both over. "Adam Pierson," he said.

"Pierson; like in pierce with sword." Shawn made a little jabbing motion with his hand, imitating a sword thrust and Adam just stared at him. "Actually, maybe more like what you're doing with your eyes right there," he circled his hand in front of Adam's face, "because that is one piercing glare."

Adam didn't say anything and returned to gazing at the ocean.

Shawn felt Gus poke him in the ribs. "I think you're making him mad; please don't make him mad."

Waving a hand to quiet Gus, Shawn surreptitiously studied Adam who was doing his best to ignore the interruption to his peaceful afternoon. "So the coat; you expecting rain or is it just a convenient place to keep your sword?"

Shawn caught the hesitation as the man stopped himself from tugging on his coat, indicating that there was in fact something hidden within the confines of the long garment. He also noticed a flicker of concern cross Adam's face before the man plastered on a false smile.

"I'm afraid I haven't mastered the subtleties of American humor, so you'll forgive me if I don't understand your question."

"You're British!" Shawn said with exaggerated enthusiasm, looking over at Gus he repeated, "He's British, that explains the raincoat."

"It rains a lot there," Gus agreed.

"Is there something I can do for you gentlemen?" Adam asked. "Or is it simply the habit of the residents of this town to interrupt strangers while they are tying to relax?"

"Oswald and I are part of the Santa Barbara welcoming committee," Shawn said. "And we just wanted to make sure you were enjoying your visit to our fair city."

"That's right, and we were hoping you might answer some questions about your experience in town."

Adam shifted to face them one hand draped across the back of the bench. "All right," he smirked. "I'll play along. What do you want to know?"

It was obvious to Shawn that the man knew they were lying. It was time to dispense with the charade. "Carlton Lassiter; is he the kind of friend who'd help you move a dead body? I just wondered because he's never offered to help me move a body."

"I don't think he likes you enough," Gus added.

Adams eyes narrowed slightly but otherwise Shawn could detect no sign that what he'd said affected the man. "Who?"

Shawn pointed down the beach. "Lassie, the guy who was just here talking to you. Tall, thin, likes his gun, very tightly wound, not what you'd call handsome."

"I don't know, Shawn," Gus said. "I think he's rather striking looking."

"True, it's the eyes. He does have the most beautiful blue eyes. Did you ever notice his eyes?" He asked Adam.

"I'm sorry," Adam said. "But I truly have no idea what you two are rambling on about." He made a point of looking at his watch. "I'm afraid I have a plane to catch, so if you excuse me." Methos stood up and straightened his coat.

"No I don't," Shawn said as he also stood.

"Don't what?"

"Excuse you. You asked and I said no; that means you have to stay."

Adam huffed out a breath. "I wasn't asking permission."

"And yet, I clearly heard you ask for permission. Didn't you hear him, Oswald?"

"I did."

Adam threw up his hands and began walking away. Shawn followed. "How about we get some lunch? I know place that makes the best burgers and we can get a couple of pineapple smoothies. I'd love to hear how you and Lassie met. I bet that's a fun story."

Adam turned on him. "This is the last time I will be polite. Please go away, now."

"Or what? You'll whip out your sword and cut off my head." Shawn's chuckle died on his lips as the full force of Methos' glare hit him.

"Don't tempt me," he snarled, and then as if realizing he might have given something away, Adam burst out laughing. "Just kidding. That's American humor right?"

"No need to explain," Gus said frantically. "Shawn has that affect on people. Sorry to have bothered you, we'll be going now." Gus grabbed Shawn's arm and dragged him down the beach away form Adam.

As they walked, Shawn shook out of Gus' grip. "Dude, what are you doing? I had him on the ropes."

"That man looked like he wanted to kill you."

"Pfft, like that hasn't happened before."

"That guy," Gus pointed behind him, "is definitely capable of murder."

"And now he's gone." Shawn threw up his arms in disgust as he realized that Adam had used Gus' panic to disappear. "Just great, Gus. Now we'll never find out why he's carrying a sword around."

"He had a sword with him?" Gus croaked out.

"Don't you see anything?" Shawn sighed. "It was tucked inside the lining. The coat was all stiff and not flowy whenever he moved."

"Flowy?"

"What? It's a word."

"You really thinking that that guy is a murderer and Lassiter helped him cover it up. I mean maybe he was just telling Pierson to get out of town or something equally threatening."

"Lassie? Threatening?" Shawn scoffed. "No, he knows that guy and knows him well." He sifted through everything his mind had catalogued about Lassie's mysterious friend.

"But Lassiter doesn't break the law - ever," Gus insisted.

"I think it might be possible that Lassie could have somehow maybe assisted Adam in covering up a crime," he said. Shawn knew without a doubt that the detective had done the unthinkable, but he wasn't ready to share that with Gus. His sidekick was right, criminal activity was so out of character for Lassiter that Shawn was at a loss on how to proceed.

"Way to be definitive?"

"Well, I don't really have any evidence, do I, Gus?" Shawn found himself getting angry, not at Gus, but at Lassiter for participating in a crime. He'd trusted the guy and sort of considered him a friend. "I can't very well go waltzing into the chief's office and accuse someone of being an accessory to murder without evidence, can I?"

"That's never stopped you before."

"True," Shawn said with a shrug. "But, there's always a first time." He suspected that Adam would be calling Lassiter about their conversation. Maybe then he'd get an explanation from the detective if he thought Shawn already knew some of the answers. Until then, he'd have to be patient and let the case drop. "You know what, Gus? I'm probably wrong about the whole thing. I mean, this is Lassiter. You're right, the man doesn't even jaywalk. How could I possibly think he's capable of covering up a murder? It's just silly."

Gus stared at Shawn. "Did you just say you were wrong and I was right? I think I need to write this down." Gus pulled a piece of paper and a pen out of his pocket. "And I need you to sign and witness this because I want proof."

"Don't make a big deal about it," Shawn said ignoring Gus' attempts to get him to sign the note. "Hey, how about we get a couple of pineapple smoothies. I'm buying."

"You're buying? Oh hell yes, this is definitely a day I have to remember." And Gus made an additional notation on his paper.

"I know it's one I'll never forget." Shawn said quietly before clapping his hands together in an effort to dispel his growing uncertainty about Lassiter and announcing brightly, "Can I just borrow a few bucks because I left my wallet at the office."

Gus just shook his head. "Of course you offer to buy when you have no money. Get me all in the mood for smoothies," Gus mumbled as he headed back to the parking lot.

"I'll pay you back!" Shawn called after him.

"You never pay me back," Gus barked over his shoulder.

"True, but good friends don't keep track." Shawn jogged to catch up to Gus.

"Good friends don't mooch all the time!"

They were bantering like always, but the situation with Lassiter still bothered Shawn. He knew that he wouldn't be able to let it go until Lassie had spilled all he knew about Adam. It's said that confession was good for the soul and Shawn wondered if he pushed his average level of annoyance into overdrive if Lassiter might not agree.


	3. Chapter 3

Methos hurried away from the unexpected encounter with Shawn Spencer and his nervous sidekick. He'd promised Carl that he'd leave town immediately, but he couldn't abandon the other Immortal to Shawn's inquiries, no matter how much he wanted to.

Lassiter had cleaned up his mess and, as much as it pained him to admit it, that meant Methos at least owed the other Immortal a heads up about his unnerving encounter. He didn't understand how, but Spencer had known about the sword in his coat and his meeting with Carl. It was clear that Spencer knew Lassiter, and would be confronting his old friend with theories that were better left to mythology.

Once Methos reached the safety of his rental car, he pulled out his mobile and dialed Carl's number.

 

*******************************************

Lassiter slumped at his desk as the adrenalin rush of the past two days wound down. Covering for Methos had been a tightrope of misdirection, and he'd pulled it off quite successfully, if he said so himself.

He shuffled papers aimlessly around his desk hoping that nothing urgent required his attention. The satisfaction he usually felt when closing a case was conspicuously absent, and for once, he wished the day would be over so he could just go home. Two days of lies and deception had left a decidedly unsettled feeling in his gut. The situation with Methos had shattered the illusion of normalcy he'd built over the past years and had him wondering how he'd ever thought he could hide from the Game and its consequences.

His cell phone vibrated across the desk, drawing him out of his musing. He let loose an annoyed growl as he looked at the caller ID. Flipping it open, he dispensed with the obligatory greeting and went straight on the attack, "I hope like hell you are calling from the airport to tell me that you're boarding a plane out of the country right now."

"Shut up and listen, Carl. I don't have time for one of your tantrums."

Lassiter did not take kindly to being ordered around, and certainly not by a man who should still be groveling at his feet for the miracle he'd pulled off.

"Adam -" there was a note of warning in his tone as he sneered the other Immortal's current alias around his tongue.

"Who is Shawn Spencer to you?" Methos asked, cutting him off. "And how does he know so much about us?"

Lassiter was struck momentarily dumb. _Spencer? What the hell was Methos talking about?_

Before he could ask, Methos was talking again. "He confronted me at the beach. He suspects that you're covering up a murder for me."

"He told you that?" Lassiter sat up straighter rubbing one hand across his temple. _If Spencer thought there was a cover up…_

"Most of what he said was couched as nonsense, but he left no doubt about his suspicions. Is he a cop?"

"A consultant," Lassiter spit out. He hated calling the idiot anything that gave his position with the police department any kind of legitimacy. "Think of the most annoying person you know and double it. That's Spencer."

"That may be true, but he's a damn clever annoyance, and now he's a problem."

Lassiter ran through the events of the last two days. He'd gotten rid of the evidence, and the body had been lost in transit; none of it could be traced back to him. That meant that there wasn't much that Spencer had to go on, but then the idiot was like a four-year-old throwing a tantrum when it came to getting his way. If Spencer wanted to reopen the case, chances were that Chief Vick would let him.

"Carl, are you hearing me?" Methos snapped.

"I've got it under control," Lassiter growled into the phone, not really sure if he believed that. Spencer had a way of making him doubt his skills, and it would take all of them to put the resident psychic off the scent. "You just make yourself scarce and let me handle this."

"Come with me."

"What?"

"Come with me," Methos repeated. "We can travel the world again. We had some good times.

Lassiter snorted. "With you? I don't think so." Sure, he and Methos were friends; joined together by their shared situation, but Carlton had always been a loner and a bit of a homebody. He wasn't much interested in becoming a wanderer and he definitely wasn't in the mood to start all over again. If he left with the cloud of this investigation hanging over him, he'd have to lay low for decades _Most likely in some God awful backwater country without running water,_ he thought. _Been there, done that, not doing it again_. Out loud he confirmed his decision, "I'm staying. I can fix this."

"What's so great about being a small town police officer that you can't just move on?"

"I refuse to let Spencer win." And really, that was what this was all about. If he hadn't left after his divorce, he sure as hell wasn't going now. There was no way Spencer was going to drive him out of his nice comfortable life.

Methos huffed out a reluctant acknowledgment of Lassiter's conviction. "Suit yourself. I'll find a hotel in town until I know this is settled."

"You don't have to do that."

"True, but technically I owe you," Methos said. "I'll have your back as long as you need me."

"Thanks." Lassiter was actually touched by Methos' offer. "Now all I have to do is convince Spencer he was wrong."

The laughter on the other end confirmed what Lassiter already knew. That wasn't going to be easy.

*******************************************

Lassiter hung up the phone and began to formulate a plan. He thought he'd done everything he could to make sure the situation with Methos was a dead issue, but Shawn's confrontation with the Immortal had thrown all of that into doubt. The internal debate about his course of action was quickly ended when he caught sight of Shawn and Gus heading into Chief Vick's office.

"Damn it, Spencer," he muttered to himself. "Couldn't you just give this one a pass?" Shaking his head, he had to stop Spencer before he convinced the Chief to reopen the case.

As he passed O'Hara's desk, he gestured for her to follow him. Knocking on the open door frame, he didn't wait to be invited in. "What are you doing here, Spencer?"

"Lassie!" Spencer was holding a cardboard tray of smoothies which he thrust in Carlton's direction. "Pineapple smoothie?" Lassiter just glared at him. "No?" He turned to O'Hara. "Smoothie, Jules?"

Juliet shrugged and took one from the tray. "Thanks, Shawn." When Lassiter glared at her, she responded, "What? I'm thirsty."

"As are we all, Jules," Shawn said smugly. "Thirsty for the truth."

"Mr. Spencer, while we appreciate the refreshments," Chief Vick said, waving off the smoothie Shawn tried to offer her. "You mentioned that you had some insight into the death of that decapitated homeless man, John Doe #25."

"Yes, I do." Shawn set the smoothies down on the edge of Vick's desk and placed a hand to his temple.

Lassiter knew this was the preamble to one of Spencer's crazy pronouncements.

"Chief," he interjected before Shawn could begin his show, "are we really going to listen to this? The case is closed."

"Only because most of the evidence was lost or compromised," Vick said. "I'm willing to hear Spencer out."

"But it was clearly an accident," Lassiter continued. "The victim unintentionally decapitated himself while handling a dangerous weapon. It's not like it was murder."

"Au canary, Lassie."

"It's _au contraire_, Shawn," Gus corrected.

Shawn leaned closer to Gus. "Yeah, that's what I said."

"You said canary, which is a little yellow bird. _Au contraire_ is the - "

"Spencer!" Vick snapped. "Do you have something to add or not?"

"I'm seeing something." Shawn spun around in a circle and grabbed the straw out of one of the smoothies. He began jabbing it wildly in the air before finally connecting with Gus.

"Shawn, you just got smoothie on my shirt!" Shawn tilted his head slightly toward the other drinks and Gus nodded before taking up his own straw.

"_En garde_," Shawn said as he tapped his straw against Gus'. Gus tapped back, and the two were soon engaged in a ridiculous straw battle.

"I see two men dueling," Shawn said as he thrust his straw at Gus who deftly batted it away. "Nice!"

"Thanks!" Gus said, before attacking with his own straw, sending Shawn backing into Lassiter.

Lassiter pushed him off. "Are you done?" He couldn't believe the Chief fell for these ridiculous pantomimes. "Really Chief? I don't see why - " She waved him into silence as she continued to focus on the show Shawn and Gus were putting on.

Frustrated, Lassiter crossed his arms on his chest, holding himself back from throttling Shawn. He knew where this little dance was going, and he had no patience for Shawn's theatrical interpretation.

"Die!" Shawn said dramatically as he swiped the straw across Gus' neck. Gus reacted by dropping his straw and sinking to the ground, hands clutched to his throat.

His death throes lasted until the chief spoke, "And the meaning of this little drama is - ?"

Shawn ignored her as he helped Gus to his feet. "Great death scene."

"Not too over the top?"

Shawn shook his head. _Perfect_, he mouthed, and with a flourish, placed the straw back into the smoothie before turning to address the chief's question.

"It's simple, Chief. The man in the alley was murdered by another man with a sword."

"You're sure?"

Shawn stared at Lassiter as he answered, "Positive. The spirits never lie. They get very whiney sometimes, like when I've had too much cheese or if The Mentalist is a rerun, but they never lie."

"There was no evidence of anyone else in the alley, Spencer. I think your _spirits_," Lassiter air quoted the last for emphasis, "are as loony are your theory."

"Detective Lassiter is right, Shawn," Juliet said. "The freak lightning strikes in the area compromised the crime scene and no one saw anyone else in the alley besides the victim."

"What about the sword found with the body?" Shawn asked. "I bet that didn't have the victim's blood on it because it wasn't the murder weapon."

"First, there is no murder weapon because there was no murder, and second, it went missing before it could be analyzed. The crime lab representative did note that there was blood on the blade," Lassiter said, "which is why the coroner put the cause of death at accidental: misadventure with a dangerous weapon. Now can we stop this nonsense? We have real cases to work on."

Shawn glared at Lassiter. "Really? And no one is bothered that a bunch of evidence went missing?

"Evidence gets lost, crime scenes get compromised. We don't like to admit it, but it happens."

"Kind of convenient, don't you think?"

"Spencer, unless you have a witness or the identity of the murderer, we have no choice but to drop the case." Eventually Spencer was going to point a finger at Methos, and Lassiter wanted him to get on with it so he could put it all to rest for good.

"I do!" Shawn began to shake and picked up the straw that Gus had dropped earlier. "I know who the murderer is!"

"Not again!" Lassiter moaned.

Shawn spun around and leveled the straw at Lassiter's chest. "Who is he to you, Lassie?"

Lassiter schooled his features. "Who's who?"

"The man at the beach."

Lassiter forced him self to laugh. "You'll have to be more specific. I talk to a lot of people everyday."

Shawn stepped back, his hand going to his head again. "A conversation on a bench on the beach. A man named – " he stopped and stared at Lassiter. "Pierson. Adam Pierson."

Lassiter frowned, but quickly recovered, putting on a neutral expression. Methos hadn't mentioned that he'd told Shawn who he was. _Idiot. Who introduces themselves to strangers?_ He was going to have to do some fancy obfuscation to get them off the scent.

"Detective?" Chief Vick's voice snapped his attention to her. "Do you know who Shawn is talking about?"

Obviously he hadn't covered his distress as quickly as he'd thought. Clearing his throat he began, "He's an old friend, Chief." Then he turned to Shawn. "Are you suggesting that my good friend was somehow involved in all this? Is this some kind of joke, Spencer?"

"I'm not laughing." Shawn turned to Gus. "Are you laughing?"

"Nope. Nothing funny here."

"Care to explain, Detective?" The chief asked.

Lassiter sighed. "Adam is an old friend. He's been in town for a few days for a visit. But he has nothing to do with the death of some random homeless guy. He did call to tell me that he was being followed by Spencer."

"Is that true? Were you following Mr. Pierson?"

"No. Actually, we were following Lassie."

"And why were you following him?"

"Because, well, at first we couldn't believe Lassie actually had a friend."

"Hey! Not that it's any of your business, Spencer, but I have plenty of friends. I just don't choose to mix work with my personal life." Of course most of his friends were centuries old, couldn't die, and rarely visited. Lassiter mentally smacked himself for being drawn into one of Spencer's little games. He needed to focus if he was going to successfully extricate himself from this situation without having to abandon his life here.

"You were saying, Mr. Spencer," The Chief interjected.

Shawn hesitated slightly before blurting out, "We think Lassiter helped his friend cover up the murder of John Doe #25."

O'Hara and Vick began laughing. "You're kidding right?" Vick asked.

"Him?" Juliet pointed, still chuckling, at Carlton.

"I mean it. Pierson and Lassie were acting all stealthy and mysterious and - " Shawn looked hurt as the women continued to laugh at him.

Lassiter was relieved that that his straight arrow reputation would prevent Chief Vick from believing anything Spencer might say to implicate him in a cover-up. Of course their trust in him only made the lies harder to tell, but there was too much at stake for him ever to share the truth.

"The sword, Shawn." Gus nudged his friend. "Tell them about Pierson's sword."

Vick sobered immediately. "You saw this Adam Pierson with a sword?"

"Not exactly."

"Not exactly?" An arched eyebrow from Vick suggested that Spencer needed to get to the point, and quickly.

"Well, I didn't see the sword, but I sensed it in his coat."

"He did," Gus added. "Because who wears a long trench coat in July when there's no rain forecast?"

"Too true, Gus," Shawn said. "And I got a distinct impression of a long, pointy, metally -"

"Metallic, Shawn."

"-metallic thing."

"Keys?" Juliet suggested.

"Keys, Jules? Can you decapitate someone with your keys?"

Lassiter laughed. "Let me get this straight, Spencer. You think my friend Adam was running around Santa Barbara with a long sword underneath his rain coat committing murders which I, in my capacity as head detective, am helping him cover-up."

"Well - ," Shawn hesitated and looked at Gus who nodded his agreement. "Yes, that's exactly what the signs are telling me."

"I don't know if I should be insulted or impressed by my own ingenuity." Lassiter leaned back against the bookcase enjoying Spencer's discomfort. Luckily, the Immortal lifestyle was pretty fantastical and did not make for a credible story; not even Shawn could make it believable.

Chief Vick stood up. "Mr. Spencer, you have spun some wild tales in the past, and I give you a lot of leeway because somehow you do end up being right much of the time – "

"All of the time!" Shawn interrupted, only to be met with one of Vick's _Shut up I'm talking _ glares. "Most of the time," he offered timidly. She continued to glare. "Right, shutting up now."

"But you are accusing my head detective of some pretty serious crimes. So unless you have a witness that places Mr. Pierson at the scene, something concrete to tie him to the murder, and evidence that Detective Lassiter knew about all of it, we're done here."

"Can't we at least bring him in for questioning?"

"I can save you the trouble, Chief," Lassiter interjected. "Adam couldn't have committed the murder. For one thing, he doesn't own a sword. I think I might have noticed one lying around my apartment while he's staying with me. Plus, when I left that morning, he was still sleeping."

"But, Chief," Shawn insisted. "I know he did it. I'm feeling it." Shawn pointed to his head and waggled his fingers. "Adam Pierson is a violent guy!"

Lassiter scoffed. "Adam? He's a teacher and a scholar. The guy wouldn't know which end of a sword to hold, let alone be capable of killing anyone."

Vick nodded. "Without more evidence, Detective Lassiter's alibi for his friend is good enough for me." She held up a hand to stop Shawn's protests. "I suggest you focus your psychic energies elsewhere." She picked up a file that had been lying on her desk. "Why don't you see what you can glean about this series of home invasions on the East Side?"

"I'll try, but - "

"No 'buts'. Do you want the case or not?" She waved the file at Spencer.

Gus reached for the file. "We'll take it."

"We already have a case," Shawn protested.

"Not anymore," Gus hissed back, and, grabbing Shawn by the arm, dragged him out of the office.

"I'll make sure he looks at the file," Juliet said as she followed them out.

"I'll be going too," Lassiter said. "I've got other cases demanding my attention."

Detective?"

"Yes, Chief?"

She stared at him as if searching for some hidden information. "I still want to know what happened to that evidence. There will be an internal investigation."

"Of course," he took on his most haughty tone. "We can't have that kind of spotty police work messing up our cases."

"I agree, and Detective, don't be angry with Spencer. You know how he can be."

"I can't wait to tell Adam that he was a murder suspect for all of five minutes. He'll get a kick out of that."

Vick nodded and waved him out of her office.

Lassiter was relieved to see that Spencer and Gus had disappeared. It had been close there for a while, but for once he'd been able to beat Spencer at his own game. As soon as he was sure those two knuckleheads weren't lurking around, he'd call Methos and tell him to get the hell out of Dodge.

 

*******************************************

Shawn and Gus sat silently in the Yaris.

Finally, Gus couldn't stand it any more. "You still think Lassiter covered up a murder?"

Shawn nodded.

"So what do we do?"

"We get donuts."

"Donuts?"

"Yes, Gus. I need donuts; preferably ones with sprinkles."

"And Lassiter?"

"Donuts first."

Gus nodded and put the car into reverse. He knew that Shawn never let go of anything. Eventually they'd return to the mystery of Lassiter and his friend, just not today, today was for donuts.


End file.
